


A Tale of Little Things

by cuddlxswithlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Childhood Trauma, Coming Out, Fairy Tale Style, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Innocent Louis, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Other, Prince Harry Styles, Princes & Princesses, Princess Louis Tomlinson, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Teen Crush, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlxswithlou/pseuds/cuddlxswithlou
Summary: Louis suffers from the sad princess syndrome, he's unable to love and give affection. He wants to escape from this tower of sufferings and find his prince, but it's not as easy as it seems.Harold isn't exactly the Prince Charming that every girl dreams of. He's neither caring or nice, yet when he meets Louis something tells him that his life is going to change.. for the better or for the worse he still doesn't know.
Relationships: Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my lovely people, it's my first time writing in English, hope there aren't too many mistakes ! It takes place in an old town and we are in the 80s, the setting is quite important to understand the story better. The chapters are short but very sweet, enjoy the reading and let me know what you think.

« _It is impossible that a fish doesn't carry any smell of the sea and a real love, of the melancholy !_ » said someone from nowhere.

A voice that Harold had never heard before came from the swings behind him and surprisingly, it belonged to a strange looking boy. It was on that sunny day at the park that he met Louis and his perennial search for the Prince Charming. Little did he know that this meeting would mark his life.

A small fairy tale made of dreams and first loves, there aren't princesses and knights, only _two boys_ with a broken soul.


	2. prologue

Harold was an eighteen year old boy who had a goldfish named Molly. He wasn't too old for a children's pet, in fact, he loved her very much.

Sometimes you could see him walking around the neighborhood hugging the fishbowl and saying to anyone who looked at them in a strange way : « She likes to sunbathe. », pointing to the little fish.

That day, however, there was no shadow of the sun in the sky, only gray clouds full of rain. The boy, heedless as he was, hadn't paid attention to the weather forecast and had forgotten his umbrella.

As soon as he felt the first drops wet his face, he knew it was time to run home. But there was a problem, he couldn't run or he would put the fish in danger.

What if he hadn't paid attention and she came out of the bowl ? Resigned, Harold decided to wait at a bus stop.

« Are you lost ? » blue eyes stared at him with curiosity and a small smile painted the face of the stranger.

« I'm changing the water for Molly. » he found his pink umbrella with rubber ducks kinda funny, but at least it was keeping him dry.

« I don't want to go home now. » said the boy with the fringe and he sat down next to him, without adding anything else.

« Why ? » asked Harold, knowing that they already met at the park some time ago and he wasn't afraid of being too intrusive anyway.

Maybe he wasn't that strange at all, in the end _he was just his neighbor's son_ and they had to get along - as his mother Anne had suggested.

« Rain makes me sad. »  
« Why are you outside then ? Did you follow me here ? And what's your name ? You haven't told me yet. »  
« You ask too many questions. »


	3. carillon

Louis really liked the carillon his mother had given him when he was little. It was his treasure and he had always kept it on the bedside table since then.

Before falling asleep, he was used to open the music box and make the little dancer with her pink tutu dance to the notes of the sweet melody.

It was like a ritual and no one ever complained - until a boy with curly hair and green eyes had moved to the next door. Their rooms were on the second floor and could be seen from the window, there was only one fence to divide their gardens. Two meters wasn't so many.

« Can you turn that thing off ? » he asked one night, looking out the window, holding a guitar.

« No. » Louis replied a few minutes later. What an annoying boy, he thought.

« You are too old to have a music box. »  
« And you're too old to have a goldfish ! » he blurted out.

He had never complained to him when in the middle of the night he started playing and singing on his guitar. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sleeping well because of him.

In response, the curly laughed and smiled at him. Harold didn't know the boy's name yet, but he noticed that perhaps he wasn't like everyone else.

He wasn't interested in making friends though, after all that boy was _just his neighbor's son._

« You don't have anything else to say ? Well, I can go back listening to my carillon then ! » Louis had waited for his answer but when he saw that he was simply staring at him, he talked again.

« Goodnight, Wendy. » replied Harold without even noticing the way he had called him. In fact, the boy with the blue sky eyes made a surprised grimace, looked away and closed the curtains.


	4. daisy

Harold had to wake up early that day to help his mother Anne with the garden.

She really liked gardening, unlike her son who had dragged himself out of bed with a grumpy sleepy face followed by some complaints.

Growing up surrounded by bright daisies and fragrant roses, he still couldn't grasp the beauty of the simplest things.

Flowers were very fragile to him : in winter they were forced to close their buds and only in spring they could bloom in thousand colors. But the boy preferred to look at their petals rather than taking care of them.

« Have you already met _Louis_ ? » asked his mum as they dug a small hole in the ground to plant a tulip.

« Who ? » he had never heard that name before.

« Our neighbors' son, you two are more or less the same age. I thought I told you to get along with him. »

Right, she was talking about _that_ boy with blue sky eyes and the fringe. Harold smiled a little, _Louis_. It was a french name. Not bad.

« I saw that you two came home together last week, when you forgot the umbrella. What do you think of him ? »

« I don't know, I haven't talked to him so much. He's- particular, I guess. » he wasn't lying, after all they had exchanged only a few words and some company. He wasn't going to be his friend anyway, he didn't need to.

« You always try to avoid people, it's not a good behaviour. » she sighed.  
« We keep moving because of your father's job.. I know it's difficult for you to settle down, even at school, but- »

« What are you doing ? » a familiar voice came from the other side of the fence. It was _him_.

The curly rolled his eyes and he was ready to run home if he wasn't forced to stay. His mother was looking at him with hope, as if to say “ it's your turn, be nice. ”

« Oh, hi dear, we are planting flowers. You can join us if you want. »  
« I'm sorry, Mrs. Styles, I can't now, I'm going to the doctor. I'll come back later. » he gave her a little smile that vanished immediately when his eyes met the green ones of the boy next to her.

« Did you two argue ? » when Louis left, Anne glared at her son. « He didn't even look at you. »

« I'll make some tea. » he wasn't going to answer her question.. Harold had only called him Wendy, there was no need to be angry.

That evening when the blue boy came back home he found a small daisy leaning on the front door.

He picked it up and looked at the neighbors' garden. Maybe one of the children who used to play in the neighborhood had put it there. Yet he had a small hunch.

Once in his room, he took his book of “ Beauty and the Beast ” from the library and enclosed the flower in its pages. _Who knows where his prince was_. He sighed and stood at the window with a thoughtful expression.   
Louis was sad, again.

« What are you looking at ? »   
« The sky. » he whispered.  
« What ? » smiled Harold.  
« The sky I said, are you deaf ? »  
« There is no need to raise your voice, I understand, I'll leave you alone. »  
« Why do you talk to me ? Nobody does it. »

« My mother wants me to be your friend. » he admitted - leaning on his window - , there was no reason to hide it anymore. « I'm trying to be nice, but _I'm not_. »

« Thanks. »  
« For what ? »  
« The daisy. »


	5. nickname

« You don't have to be nice with me if you aren't. People can fake their behaviours but unfortunately I'm not stupid, I know when someone is lying and is _not interested in me_. »

Louis explained one evening, when he couldn't fall asleep and had to turn to the boy next door in boredom.

The curly was playing his guitar, the window open - maybe that was the reason why he was still awake -, and he managed to catch his attention by raising his voice a little bit just to be   
heard and noticed.

After listening to those words, Harold stopped playing and looked up, there must have been something wrong with him in that moment because he said : « Who says I'm not ? ».

As strange as it may have seemed, it was unexpected for both of them. The narrative Harold had put since the day they met was clear, _you are just my neighbor's son, I don't need to be your friend._ Or at least it was what he thought.

But the more days passed, the more he found himself attracted to the strangeness of that boy. He wondered what he always did indoors and why he hadn't seen him go to school before.

It was a small town and everybody knew each other, that's why he had eventually ended up hearing some rumors about him from his classmates.

Wasn't sure if he could trust them or not. Also, the way people pictured Louis was kinda funny and they had also given him an unusual _nickname_.

« I didn't mean that, what I'm trying to say is.. you are strange, not in a bad way - it makes me curious and usually I find few things worthy of my interest. » the curly was fast to correct himself.

He had carefully chosen the words and there was no intention to offend him or even misunderstand things.

« I'm not like one of the many flowers you planted in the garden. » Louis wasn't sure how to react to his confession.

He shouldn't have talked to him in the first place. His curls were too messy and his voice too low.

« Harold. » the sky was so dark.   
« ..what ? » the bright moon.   
« At your service, _Princess_ , my name is Harold and I'd still like to call you Wendy. »


	6. green

If there was a colour Louis disliked, it was _green_.

The light green of the grass in the early morning. The dark green of the mud when it rained. The green vomit of the peas on his plate. The green hope of her mom's uniform.

The bright green of the apples in the basket. The lively green of the leaves on his garden. The faded green of the cover of his favorite book. The pale green of his socks.

The mysterious green of Harold's eyes who looked in his direction when he got off the school bus.

The dull green of his bandana among his curls that fell on the shoulders.

The military green of his shirt.  
The worn green of his bracelet.  
The lightened green of his tight jeans.

The heavy green of his voice saying to him : « Hi. »

« ..hi, Harold. » he replied softly. Louis was lost staring at the worn green of the converse he wore that afternoon.

« Didn't you go to school today ? » the _blue_ sky of his eyes. No rainy clouds.

« I don't go there anymore. » the crystalline green of his little smile.

« It's not that fun anyway. Better for you. » he sat next to him on the sidewalk, throwing the backpack on the ground. The light blue of his sweatshirt. So petit, thought Harold.

« Don't call me Princess- next time. » the dull green of his gaze. A sigh.

« Why not. » the ice blue of his character. So cold.

« I don't like it.. I'm not a girl. »  
« What about Wendy ? » the warm blue of his cheeks.

« My name is _Louis_. »  
« I like blue. »


	7. neverland

« Wendy. » a whisper in the dark.  
« I told you my name is Louis ! »  
« No need to scream in the middle of the night, you'll wake everybody up. »

A month had passed and he was still annoying, thought the blue eyed boy.  
He couldn't even turn on the light that his low voice was heard from the window - cursed the architect who designed their houses so close to each other.

But he knew Harold found it difficult to fall asleep : « _I have insomnia problems »_ as he had told him one day.. so nothing new.

That's why he played the guitar, to pass the time. He talked to Molly the goldfish too and it was very funny.

They discussed their day, the people he met and Louis always laughed secretly under his sheets. _He_ was the strange one, not him.

« You remind me of her. »  
« Well, with all the green you wear you could be Peter Pan. » he specified with a smile.

It wasn't his favorite story, there were no princes and castles, just a naughty boy who knew how to fly.

Yet he didn't mind the idea of an island where you could be free and do whatever you wanted. Maybe no to the pirates and yes to the beautiful mermaids.

But Louis didn't understand why he had to be that little girl. He had no brothers, no blonde hair and he didn't even have a dog. What was the reason then ?

« I'm sure you daydream very often, but there's no Peter Pan in this world. People don't believe. »  
« Are you like them ? » now he was curious.

He once told him he believed in ghosts but not in heaven. If only her mother had heard it, Harold could have been in trouble.

« Not everyone likes blue. And not everyone has a goldfish at eighteen. »  
« I never understand what you say.. »  
« You don't have to, I do it on purpose. » a small laugh came from his soft lips.

Harold liked to tease him. He found him kinda cute, when the boy with the fringe wasn't sad. And it often happened that he went out to the garden with dark blue eyes and a melancholic expression.

Those were the days when the curly knew he couldn't talk to him. He had learned his lesson when one morning he said hi and Louis bursted in tears. Since then he hadn't asked him nothing about it.

« I'd like to never grow up. »  
« If I was Peter, I would take you to Neverland, Wendy. »


	8. nail polish

Louis liked to paint his nails.  
His mother found it strange, but after all his son was a particular boy and she loved him as he was.

Occasionally he would help her too - every Sunday afternoon to be precise, when she didn't have to go to the hospital for work.

Pink, blue, red, with little flowers or sparkling glitter, it didn't matter, as long it made him happy and smiled satisfied every time.

When he was still a child, there were girls who had colored nails at school and he envied them. Why boys couldn't be cute, he thought.

« You look _gay_. » said a classmate the first time he painted them.

It wasn't a good memory, he came home crying and very upset. It was a bad word, his father told him once.

Louis was a good boy, not gay. Too young to know the reason behind his tears, but not too much to understand what he really wanted.

At the age of seventeen, he didn't care much about what people said about him. Obviously, he had to make himself beautiful for his prince.  
Otherwise he wouldn't have fallen in love with his big blue eyes.

Every day he waited for him, sitting on the sidewalk or leaning against his bedroom window.

But the only person who showed up was dressed all in green, with a backpack on his shoulders or a fish bowl in his hand.

He wasn't the Prince Charming, only _Harold_ \- his curly neighbor with dimples and the habit of teasing him. Except for that late spring afternoon.

« You painted your nails, it looks.. »  
« Gay ? » he said immediately, when the boy stood in front of him and covered the sun, leaving Louis in the shadow.  
« Why would I say such a thing. It's pretty, that's all. »

Cheeks red and a big smile. Harold wouldn't have made fun of him, he wasn't that kind of person. Luckily.

« People said that to you ? » how small he was, all curled up in the same place as usual.

Always waiting for someone, one day he would ask him for who. Somehow he liked to think it was for him.

Yet, he didn't understand how anyone could be mean to someone so harmless as him. Louis was just being himself. What a shame.

« Sometimes. » the boy replied with a grimace. It was getting late.  
« Screw them, they are just jealous. »  
« I know, not everyone can be as pretty as me. » he looked up to meet the Harold's eyes. Ugh, light green.

« How much ? »  
« For what ? »  
« To paint mine. »


	9. swing

« You like her ? » the curly jumped at the sound of his voice behind him. It was a strange behaviour of his, Louis always came out of nowhere.

« I don't know what you are talking about. » a lie, he knew exactly what he was referring to.

A wrinkle appeared on the blue-eyed boy's forehead. He was concerned and annoyed, arms crossed.

June, the sun was high in the bright sky. So hot. A droplet of sweat fell on Harold's face. What a silence.

« Nothing, I'm bored- » he hesitated  
« .. let's play. » cheeks red.

« You must be really bored, you've never asked me before. What do you want to do ? » a small smile and lots of curiosity. It was going to be a long day.

They were at the park, near the swings like the first time. With more children around and less dry leaves.

Louis didn't know what to say, actually he just wanted some company.

A few minutes earlier, he had seen the other laugh and joke with a girl. He had never seen her around. Pretty, tall and with long blonde hair.

Maybe she was a friend of his, in the end what did he care. Harold was still his neighbor, _occasional friends._

« Push me. » he had decided to sit on the swing, he would think of something else later.

« Alright. » sighed the oldest and started pushing. His hands burned on the fabric of his shirt. Sweat down the back. So light and slim.

« _Higher_. » the wind played with its fringe and he felt like a bird flying under the blue sky. When Louis was a child he always played on the swing with his father. It was almost nostalgic.

« Are you having fun ? I'm tired, it should be my turn. » he complained, but actually he was enjoying himself. It was such an innocent and sweet moment.

Harold was enchanted by the other's laughter, _he knows how to be happy then._

« But- I'm a _princess_. » those words came out of his mouth so smoothly. Louis didn't even notice, he wasn't paying attention to what he just said.

A veil covered the green eyes. Now he understood why they had given him that nickname.

« I thought you didn't like it. » the curly stopped pushing and stepped aside to watch him go up and down alone.

« Well.. I can call myself that, I guess. »  
« Why ? »  
« Princes only love princesses. »

It was an unexpected answer, yet he had said it casually. As if it were obvious.

But for the oldest it was a surprise, captured by his words, Harold wasn't only fascinated but wanted to know more.

« What- » he had no time to say anything else because he was fast enough to grab a Louis about to fall to the ground. Luckily he had quick reflexes.

On the grass, hugged tight. A heart beat wildly on the other's chest. The shirts sticky from sweat. Daisies in the hair. Sunset. Big green eyes mirrored in the blue ice ones.

It was late, they had to go home.  
Hurry up, get up. It's time.  
But neither of them moved.

_They are looking at us._   
_It's okay._   
_But.._   
_Are your eyes blushing ?_

Harold's mother would have made fun of him, _how did you get all dirty_. But he knew what he would answer, with a heavy soul and butterflies in the stomach : « I saved a princess. »


	10. ghost

Sometimes Harold would act like a ghost : invisible, ignored by the people around him and quite, very quite. Just a boy of few words.

That was the mainly reason why he didn't have many friends, even his family has always struggled to understand him.

Eventually they stopped trying when they realized there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. An overthinker. Not a dreamer for sure.

Harold wasn't nice, but neither a bad person, his indifference spoke for itself. No interest in anything at all, only for his guitar and his goldfish.

It would have been so easier if it wasn't for his neighbor's son. _One stare_ _._ The blue sky seemed to fall down with all its dying stars upon him.

No rainy clouds that summer season. After the “ _princess fall_ ”- as he called the swings incident -, Louis had kept himself away from the curly and it made Harold kinda frustrated.

Did he say something wrong, again ? There was nothing to hide or escape from. At least a _thank you,_ but no, he had run away with scared and teary eyes when they got up.

Maybe he _did_ something. Guilty.  
He felt almost lost. But there was no intention of scaring him, it just happened.

« Are you avoiding me on purpose ? »  
Harold would never admit that he was keeping an eye on him. The blue eyed boy was sitting on the sidewalk in front of his house.

« Yeah. » straight to the point. Not even a mocking smile. Just a tired expression. He was wearing a yellow shirt, a little too bright for his taste.

« Are you doing okay, Wendy ? »  
« Mh, the days pass. »  
« Bye then. » the oldest had realized it was one of _those_ days. But it was enough to hear from him and know that he was fine at least. He would have left him alone.

« Are you not going to ask me why ? Don't leave yet. Please.. » the last words came out like a whisper. Louis had never asked him to stay.

Now that he thought about it, he never did. Harold was always around him because he wanted it.

« Can I sit next to you ? »  
« I won't eat you. »  
« Well, it's one of those days when you could do anything. I wouldn't be surprised if you ate me alive. »

A crystalline laugh, genuine and a little suffocated. Now he was smiling softly. He knew he had to be careful with his words, Harold was afraid of ruining that fragile _flower_.

They were silent for a while watching the neighborhood kids play football. Usually they talked. But that day was not made of words.

Half an hour, maybe an hour had passed. Anyone who walked through that street would have found them strange enough.

A breath divided them. Shoulders touching. The breeze in their hair. Who knows what they were thinking of.

Two ghosts in the sun, far from the rest of the world. One hand on the other's chest. _You were my because._

« I thought I would die. » Louis's voice was calm and not trembling. Sincere as always. Blue eyes met the green ones after days.

« I mean, it's not normal, it beat too fast. I was afraid it might explode.. that's why I ran away. » he kept talking. But didn't notice Harold had stopped listening for quite some time.

To be precise since the youngest took his hand and put it on his heart, the curly froze. _What- what did you say ? I wasn't paying attention, sorry._

« I said, you are red like a tomato. »  
« Fuck. »


	11. girls

« Mum. »  
« Yeah, _Lou Lou_ ? »

Silence.

« What's wrong, did something happen to you ? » Jay was concerned, her son was acting more seriously than usual. He didn't even eat that much at lunch.

Louis was standing in front of the kitchen window and his eyes wandered in search of something.

Actually he wasn't sure what he was looking for. Flowers, so many colorful flowers in the neighbor's garden. Well, _someone_ had planted them in spring. He remembered.

Jay approached him and waited for an answer that didn't come at first but only few minutes later.

« I'm not a girl. » a whisper, his voice was firm. A statement that surprised the woman for a moment.

He used to start conversations with sentences without an apparent meaning. So she knew there was something deeper.

With the calm and tenderness of a mother, she replied softly with a smile : « Last time I checked, you weren't. »

« Girls like boys. » he had thought about it for a while. He had kept it hidden from the doctor, he wouldn't understand.

« Yes, they are so stupid. Aren't they ? » Jay remained calm, probably just another of his lovely son's silly speeches.

Squeak of a door that opens. Louis quickly looked down. He hoped _he_ hadn't seen him hidden behind the curtain.

She noticed his change of gaze and allowed herself to look through the window. Tall, curly and green.

« _He_ always wears green, wonder if it's the only shirt he has. »

« He said he likes blue too. » he commented immediately, crossing his fingers. Doubtful. Full of questions.

« Aren't you going out to say hello ? I know you two are friends- » she paused and continued : « It's a good thing, Lou Lou. Very good. »

The boy was afraid. His mother would understand, wouldn't she ? It was on the tip of his tongue. But the conversation didn't continue.

As soon as he stepped outside, Harold felt observed. He had pretended nothing. But there was so much tension.

 _Don't say anything, act normal._  
He knew for sure someone on the other side of the fence was watching him.

« H, did you water the plants ? » an amused voice behind his back took him away from his thoughts. Gemma.

« I'm doing it, see ? »   
« What a good boy, as soon as you finish go back inside, I made tea. » his sister would never stop treating him like a child.

She was a few years older than him. He loved her very much, despite having a questionable sense of humor.

Pity she was attending university in another city. Usually she spent summers with them, but now she got a boyfriend and they spent less and less time together as a family.

Louis didn't recognize that girl. It wasn't the same as the last time. His eyes darkened. Cloudy sky.

On one side he wanted to cry and on the other ignore everything. If only his prince had been there.. his heart would have beaten only for him.

« Maybe boys only like girls. »

It didn't matter. A proper princess would never have lost her smile for an _ordinary boy_.

Louis apologized to his mother and returned to his melancholic tower. Teary eyes. Wet pillow. Staring at a ceiling of stars.

He wouldn't go out to wait for anyone that day. Nor would he speak to Peter Pan. Too sad to dream another life.

« Do you know why I don't like this story ? » melody of a carillon mixed with suffocated sobs : « ..Wendy is left alone in the end. »


	12. boys

« Gemma. »  
« What's up, H ? »

Silence.

« Are you going to make a joke or comment on my dress ? » she smiled and looked at her little brother with curiosity. He had really grown a lot.

« There's something bothering me lately.. I mean, it's not annoying, it's- » the boy bit his lip. Another word and he would confess everything.

The last days of June had passed slowly. It was too hot to go out. No, it wasn't an excuse for not meeting a certain person.

And no, at night he hadn't been trying to get noticed by _him_ more than usual. It might have seemed kinda contradictory but he still needed attention.

He was angry because Louis ignored him a week ago and now he was the one hiding at home. Well, if _he_ didn't confuse him so much, there would be no problems.

Yet Harold did nothing but think.  
To his own hand on _his_ chest.  
To the blue sky of his eyes.  
To the little smile painted on his face.  
To the fringe that covers his forehead.  
To his voice calling his name.  
To his funny grimaces when he says something stupid.

At his melancholy expression when he looks at him leaning against his bedroom window under a shower of stars.

The tears he had seen come from his red eyes the first time he had frightened him with some bad jokes.

To his hopeful expression of when he waits for his someone who unfortunately will never come. Because Harold knew.

A classmate had told him. _Prince Charming, Louis Tomlinson waits for the love of his life. Such a weirdo._

Yet the curly hadn't thought the same when he heard about it. He was strange, but harmless. At first he had ignored these rumors, but over time he had noticed it too.

They said he was sick and warned him to stay away from Louis. Otherwise he would have infected him. _You don't know ? He's.. you know._

« ..Gay. »  
« What ? » her sister's eyes widened. She had no idea what he just said. Concerned. Not really convinced.

« _He_ just happened to be a boy. » a sigh, but he was calm. Surprisingly, he hadn't hesitated to say it.

« Stop talking nonsense and make me understand, thank you. »  
« I'm not saying it's wrong, I don't think it's necessary to make it such a big deal. People are morons. »   
« For God's sake, I want to know ! »

« Our neighbor's son, his name is Louis, and- » his sister stopped him immediately.   
« And ? »   
« I don't want to give up on him. »

Gemma had understood one thing. Didn't know if it was the right one. Still uncertain, a little shocked. But not too much.

« It's unusual for you to become attached to someone. He must be a interesting boy. » a smile.

« I think he hates me. » Harold joked, with a lighter heart. There was no need to say anything else. His sister supported him. She always had.

« One day I'd like to meet him. It's an opportunity not to be missed ! You should invite him home, you know. »

She winked at him and stroked his curls. Maybe he should have cut them. But he liked them long.

« So you don't talk to yourself at night. I thought you were going crazy. » a little laugh. The guest bedroom was close to his and sometimes she could hear their voices.

« I'm bored and I can't sleep. »  
« Or.. are you looking for attention ? »  
« I like _blue_. »

« Weren't you obsessed with green ? »  
« I don't think Wendy like it. » he paused, her sister curious.

« There is one thing not everyone knows. Peter never left Wendy, he always comes back to her. At night, when she dreams. »


	13. covers

The curly had some old worn green converse and Louis had been staring at them for quite some time that morning.

Middle July. Gemma already left but somehow he had gotten the chance to meet her. How stupid.. _she_ was his sister, a very nice one.

« Doesn't she talk too much ? » Harold had asked him, when last week he invited him for afternoon tea.

Louis would have lied if he said he wasn't nervous. Nobody had ever invited him home. Not even when he was little did he go to play with the few friends he had.

The boy was also surprised at how he accepted the invitation without any hesitation. Her mother was overjoyed, she had prepared some delicious cookies for the occasion.

He was fine in his tower, he had never felt the need to go elsewhere. Surely something had pushed him to do it. _Useless anger and frustration._

Louis was very sad at the time. The boy in green had _someone else_ to spend the days with. At night they exchanged few words.

_I'm sleepy, let's talk tomorrow._

Funny enough, he had gotten the wrong idea the whole time. He was still wondering why he had gotten so upset. Ever heard of _jealousy_ ?

« Hello ? You are not paying attention to me today. »  
« You always wear those shoes, aren't they too old ? » he asked suddenly.

« I know, but I like how they fit. » Harold looked at his feet, there was nothing wrong with them- ok, maybe they were a little worn.

« When did you get them ? » every day they found a new topic to talk about. Even randomly. That's why Louis never got bored and enjoyed the time they spent together.

« Three years ago, I think. It was a gift. »  
« From whom ? »  
« My first girlfriend. »

Louis turned to him with a mixed expression of surprise and confusion. He had never mentioned a _girlfriend_ before, nothing about his love life actually.

He never asked because it wasn't something he was interested in, but somehow it kinda made him upset.

« I liked her, but she was more like a good friend to me. » Harold noticed the shadow in the youngest eyes and tried to say things casually.

« Fine. »

Silence. What a cloudy sky, it was supposed to be a sunny day but the weather has always been unpredictable.

« Have you ever kissed her ? » asked Louis.  
« A couple of times. »  
« Mh. » silence broken by a thunder in the distance. Summer rainstorm.

« Did you like it ? »  
« You are very interested, I see. »  
« I'm just asking, you two are no longer together anyway. »

A laugh, Harold was amused. Usually Louis didn't care much about him, and now he kept asking him questions. Cute and pure.

« The first one was awful. »  
« Princes always save their princesses with a lovely unforgettable kiss. How can you say that- »

Maybe it was the small drops of water that started to fall. The cold sidewalk they used to sit on. The breeze that ruffled his lovely fringe.

A mother from a distance who called her children home. _It's going to rain !_

The sound of a heart beat that is lost in blue sky eyes. Maybe because _he_ was smiling slightly and was a little red on the cheeks or it was simply because of his words.

Words spoken in a light voice, like the melody of a piano. No, it was definitely because of the pout.

No matter what the reason was, down below Harold wanted to kiss him. He was curious, so much it hurt.

Impulsive.

 _Stop, don't do it. It's not a joke._  
His conscience was clear.

He shouldn't have done that, but the curly saw nothing wrong with it and Harold was still a kid who didn't really know the difference between liking someone and being just interested.

Didn't know what it was, but he could feel it. He felt it stronger and stronger as he approached Louis's lips.

« ..that was disgusting, Harold ! » the boy immediately backed away. He was shocked, more disappointed than anything else.

« I'm- I'm sorry, _Lou_. » scared.   
« You were right. »  
« What ? » confused.  
« The _first one_ is awful. »


	14. dress

« I liked it. »  
« What, the dress ? It's not that pretty, it wouldn't fit you. » Harold said with a smile. Late summer, they were in town and for some minutes the princess had been captured by a simple floral dress on a mannequin displayed in a shop window.

The curly had never asked himself too many questions about what Louis liked to wear or not, but he knew it was very original and special for him. Also, it wasn't his business to judge.

« Who said I want to buy it ? It looks cute, I'm just saying.. » he replied rolling his eyes, it wasn't a big deal.  
« It's been five minutes since you've stopped in the middle of the street staring at it. It's worth trying. »

Lightning idea, just a little risky. The blue-eyed boy spun around with a surprised and a not very willing to do it kind of expression. There were too many people, not to mention it was quite ridiculous.

A boy in a dress ? Never had such a thing been seen before. It was a crazy idea, but too late. Harold had already dragged him into the shop.

« I said I don't want— »  
« There is no one here, try it quickly Wendy ! »  
« Alright.. no need to raise your voice, the cashier is staring at us. » a sigh. Louis had no choice.

He wouldn't have admitted he was happy after all. It wasn't the first time he had fantasized about wearing a dress. Princesses wear long sparkly dresses, don't they ?

His legs were shaking, staring at the mirror. He was about to burst into tears when Harold opened the curtain.

« Do you need help ? Oh. »

The boy retired immediately, red on his cheeks and butterflies in his stomach. So weird yet pleasant.

Louis didn't know how to react. Why had he run away ? Maybe he was right, boys don't wear dresses.

He had come too close to the sun. Louis and Icarus shared the same dreams : being free to fly without fear.. and apparently it went against the will of the gods.

He was so happy that day, didn't really want to go home with sad blue eyes and a hurt soul. Her mom would understand, but it wasn't enough.

One sigh only. Ready to leave.  
But a hand took his face and soft lips kissed his.

Like butterfly wings, a little gift.

« _Stop kissing me, Harold._ »


End file.
